Early exit at Site B
As September approaches swiftly, the ospreys at Rutland Water are starting to think about the long journey south for the winter. However, it seems the Site B birds have decided to depart earlier than usual, and it seems they have missed the worst of the bad weather we have been having over the last few days.
03(97), the female and 33(11) haven’t been seen regularly at the nest since early August, instead just visiting occasionally. The female was last seen on 9th August – her job effectively done for the season when 33 became independent from the nest. 33, although last seen in Rutland on 18th August, has been visiting other nest sites and seems to have been fending for himself – quite a good start in life if you now have to fly 3500miles to West Africa on your own! 03 probably waited for 33 to start the epic journey before starting his own.
But why so early this year? With only one chick in the nest, 33 had been getting plenty of fish and parental attention, perhaps more so than the chicks at Manton Bay, so it is no surprise that the 33 quickly felt able to leave the nest and become independent from his parents.
So that is Site B over for another year. Let’s hope 03 makes it back to breed again for the 11th time next spring! Place your bets now on his arrival time…
Autumn in the air
Project volunteer Linda Jones is back from her recent trip to Scotland and had two contrasting shifts at Site B and Manton Bay last week. Here’s her account…
I really enjoyed my holiday in Scotland last week. But, I really missed our Rutland Ospreys and so it was with great excitement and anticipation that I approached my usual duties at Site B and Manton Bay.
I was at the Site B nest as usual about 6am on Monday. I had kept up to date with events the previous week through the Rutland Osprey website, so I wasn’t sure what I would see. All of the Ospreys had been spending so much time away from the nest, with 33 being particularly adventurous! As I approached the shed, I could see 03 sitting on the small oak eating a fish. No sign of the female or 33. 03 left about 20 minutes later. An hour later 33 appeared, sat on the nest calling loudly for food. Having got no response, he left. At 8.10am, 03 returned, again to an empty nest! He had brought a large twig and spent 10 minutes tidying the nest, before he too left. I had not seen the female whilst I was there. I know that the Ospreys will spend increasing amounts of time away from the nest now that 33 is fledged but it seemed rather sad that the various members of this special family kept missing each other! It was not all a sad morning though. As always at Site B, there was a lot to keep me occupied. 2 young Wrens played on the oak tree, I could hear the raucous squawking of a Jay and later it flew from the clump of trees nearby into the wood. There were also the usual visitors of Blue and Great Tits and lots of rabbits! I was not disappointed.
On Friday, it was my duty at Manton Bay. Wow, was I looking forward to it! I arrived at the Lyndon reserve at 5.30am, collected the telescopes and monitoring books and proceeded to Waderscrape hide. It was a rather drizzly, dank morning, but not cold. The first thing that struck me was how different the atmosphere was. It had been 2 weeks since I had been there and there is no doubt that Autumn is on the way. Last time I was on duty, there was a cacophony of noise – with the harsh grating of Sedge Warblers and the pretty chirps of Reed Buntings. Today, it was – almost – silent. The most strident sounds were of a hungry Osprey chick: pew-pew-pew, across the Bay. There were only the occasional Sedge Warbler flitting about, I didn’t see any Reed Buntings but I did get a glimpse of a Reed Warbler. The Autumnal atmosphere continued with over 150 Black Headed Gulls roosting beside the water and swathes of Canada and Greylag Geese flying overhead.
What did not disappoint, though, was my 3 hours of Osprey watching. It was an eventful morning. When I arrived in the hide at 5.45am, despite the murky conditions, I could see the female sitting on the near perch and 1 large chick in the nest – how it had grown in 2 weeks! The chick was calling loudly for food but to little effect. Over the next hour and a half, the other 2 chicks arrived back, spending time flying around, on the perches, nest and the large poplars; the female went off. There was no sign of 5R. At last, at 7.15am, the female brought in a large trout. She took it to the perch and started to eat. But after only a couple of minutes – perhaps she could cope no longer with the plaintive calls of her offspring – she took it to the nest. One of the chicks, presumably 22, immediately purloined it, the others not getting a look in. The loud protests continued to resound across the bay. 20 minutes later, the female swooped down from the near perch, hit the water just in front of the nest, rising with another fish which she took straight to the nest and proceeded to feed the “starving” chicks. It was not until 8am that 5R returned, without a fish, and was immediately banished to the far perch!
There was another, rather amusing, drama during the morning – the saga of the Magpie. It started when one of the Osprey chicks sat on the far perch. A Magpie joined it, sitting on the opposite end. They spent some time eyeing each other up, before the Magpie decided to move in closer. It reached the middle of the perch, before suddenly making a lunge at the chick, which “jumped” in surprise, before they resumed their cautious eyeballing and eventually the Magpie left, probably fed up with the game! Later, I would like to think the same Magpie decided to sit on the near perch, next to the adult female. She didn’t take a lot of notice, occasionally giving the Magpie a rather supercilious glance. But the Magpie made a tactical error! It decided to go to the Osprey nest. It first landed on the French perch attached to the nest, with 2 nervous but curious chicks watching it, and then decided to land on the nest. The female had had enough with this intruder and soon chased it off. I wonder if the saga continued later?
I left the hide just after 9am. I had, as always, had a special time. How fortunate are we to have the opportunity to watch the Ospreys so clearly at Rutland Water. This morning reminded me that Autumn is certainly on the way and the Ospreys will shortly be facing the new challenge of their journey to Africa. I’ll miss them – but there’s still a few weeks to enjoy their company and antics!
A Tale of Two Sites…
Two days ago, Ken’s last report told us about his recent Site B experience when the family spent much of their time away from the nest. I also experienced this yesterday morning when I sat in the shed with Anya and Emma for two hours and 03 graced us with his presence for 15 minutes. There was no sign of 33(11) or the female. In the afternoon volunteer Alex also shared a similar fate when she saw an Osprey for a total of 10 minutes during her four hour shift. Are the Site B residents already preparing to leave?
But what a contrast it has been in Manton Bay today. Alex and Anya joined forces this morning and when they arrived in Waderscrape hide they were greeted by the sight of five Ospreys! What a treat after such a quiet day yesterday. It has been a good day for us all at Lyndon with a minimum of four Ospreys in the Bay all day. Even the chicks are being considerate to our many webcam viewers by spending time on the nest. Nice to see when recently we are used to fleeting glimpses as a fish is being delivered. Long may it continue! As today shows there is still plenty going on in Manton Bay so it is well worth a visit.
A job well-done
During the summer male and female Ospreys have very clearly defined roles. It’s the male’s job to go out and catch fish for his family – perhaps five or six times a day at the height of the breeding season. His mate, meanwhile, stays at the nest to protect the chicks. It is the same at any Osprey nest anywhere in the world.
This means that by early August the female’s job is effectively done for another year. Whilst the male will continue to provide fish for the youngsters until they set out on migration, there is nothing to keep the female at the nest once her offspring have fledged. This has been very noticeable at both the Site B and Manton Bay nests over the past few days. Both females have been wandering widely – visiting the other nests in the Rutland Water area and making the most of their first bit of freedom for over four months. The semi-colonial nature of Ospreys proves that they like nesting close to other Ospreys and the behaviour of the females at this time of year is a clear example of this. Why else would they visit the other nests, other than pure curiosity? Basically, they’re being nosey neighbours.
All of the breeding females are now starting to catch their own fish too. Until now they have been reliant upon their mate for food, but from early August they become much more independent again. They often share the fish with the juveniles, but beginning to fish for themselves shows that the females are starting to think about leaving. Within a few weeks they will be setting off on migration – often several days or weeks before their chicks. By leaving earlier than their offspring the females guarantee that there will be more fish for the juveniles; helping them to get into the best possible condition for their first migration. This morning the Manton Bay female landed on the nest with a partly-eaten trout; possibly one she had caught herself. All of the juveniles were away from the nest and so she flew off and continued to eat the fish herself. And why not? She’s earned it!
All Alone at Site B….
Tuesday 2nd August : Week 20 : 8.00 – 12.00 at Site B : Warm, 19 degrees C, calm and sunny.
I’m still on a high after the amazing events in Manton Bay on Sunday afternoon, so there’s a real spring in my step as I walk down to the watch-point, breezily greeting the bullocks and the horses on my way. Tom and Ann report a busy two hours since they arrived at 6.00am, with a fish delivery and a lot of action around the nest. We chat for a while, and out of the corner of my eye I spot 33 slide off his perch and fly purposefully south. The time is 7.59 : my shift has not even started yet, and he has left! We know where he is likely to be heading, don’t we? Of course, he’s had his fishy breakfast and now he’s off to spend the day with his new chums in the Bay! And there’s a Family Fun Day there today too! No doubt he will join in with the fun! That could be the last I see of him today!
Oh, well, at least his Mum and Dad are here…..but not for long. Time : 8.05 : 03 leaves his perch and flies strongly east. Is it a fishing trip, or another day excursion to see ‘the boys’ at the other nests? Five minutes into the shift, and I’m down to one Osprey. Time : 8.14 : the female launches into the air and flies along the front of the wood and then south-east. Where is she off to? Goodness only knows. So, 15 minutes gone, three and three quarters hours of shift remaining. No ospreys. Every few minutes, I scan the empty nest and all the favourite perches, and forlornly search the skies for a familiar shape returning. Nothing. This has the feel of early September, not early August. It could be a long morning……
So, what does an Osprey watcher do when there are no Ospreys to watch? Well, if you’ve got a companion with you, you chat, you set the world to rights, you generally pass the time with light congenial conversation. But if, like me today, you’re a lone worker, you have to invent some more ingenious strategies to prevent the onset of delirium. For a start, I pretend the wooden shed is in fact a charming beach-hut like the one I used to love at Frinton-on-Sea. I take a canvas chair outside, set it up under the oak-tree, and take my boots off ~ wonderful! I pour a coffee and eat a sandwich. I take out my note-book and make a list of ‘things-to-do’ in the next 225 minutes :
- watch and study in minute detail the behaviour of every living thing I can see (birds, butterflies, insects, mammals). If desperate, extend the list to include inanimate things like clouds and aeroplanes.
- make list of jobs I’ve got to do when I get home.
- write a story for children about Ospreys, for use when we start going to schools again in September
- listen to other people’s conversations on the radio link with Lyndon and Manton Bay (This one fails badly as soon as I hear John say ‘Yes, all five birds present in the Bay’)
- contemplate the season with all its comings and goings, ups and downs, thrills and spills.
- think about all the new people I’ve met this year, the old friendships strengthened, the new experiences, the exciting times to come.
It’s 9.50 now. No Ospreys maybe, but my sweep across the blue sky with the binoculars produces just a few migrating Swifts at a terrific height, and ~ up there with them ~ a single Hobby~ my second in three days~ circling, soaring, drifting, darting ~ its body full of curves, arrow-sharp, aerial perfection. Maybe a local breeder, or a migrant, who knows? Today is all the better for seeing that.
Tim phones and says I needn’t stay if I don’t want to in view of the lack of Ospreys. Actually I’m enjoying it. The Ospreys may be away, but this is still their home and I’m almost ‘house-sitting’ for them ~ except that I’m not doing a very good job and those dratted Magpies are all over the nest, searching for little fishy morsels that might be in there. And Buzzards are sailing around without fear of dive-bombers from above today ~ are they still intruders even though no-one is at home? Anyway, I couldn’t possibly leave. What if they come back? What if my relief team (Bob and Norman) reached the hut and found it all locked up and deserted? Not good form at all.
I look back in the notes. ‘No Ospreys all shift’ someone had written on Sunday, and ‘Ditto’ was written underneath for Monday. Well at least it’s not been that bad today. I did have them for 14 minutes!
11.00am : No change : From my low position in the canvas chair, I survey the clouds (Desperate Measure No.1). I’ve got a fabulous book called ‘The Cloud Spotter’s Guide’, but I wish I’d paid more attention to it because I’m still having trouble sorting out my ‘cumulus mediocris’ from my ‘cumulus humilis’. Tiring of that, I spot a row of five ladybirds walking along a strand of barbed wire in front of me (Desperate Measure No.2). Different sizes, different number of spots. Four are red with black spots, one tiny one is yellow with black spots. The front one comes to a barb in the wire and stops. The others line up behind him, but then grow impatient and try and climb over him. Two fall off, one flies, the front one turns round and goes back. I am attempting something Darwinian to explain this, when my mobile rings. It’s my car dealer. My vehicle is being recalled for an urgent safety check and could they have it as soon as possible? Great. Is it going to explode? Or fall to pieces? Oh no, Sir, nothing like that, we just need to check it over for you….So that’s tomorrow sorted.
11.50 : My relief approaches! I hastily put my boots on and return the beach hut to its former identity as a shed. As always, we talk for a while, about the Ospreys (or lack of them), about cricket, the public school system, and other vital topics. As I walk back, I conclude that this has been a very enjoyable morning which I would not have missed for the world. It’s all part of the Osprey Experience, and the knowledge that this pair and their juvenile are now acting independently away from the nest for much of the time is yet another useful piece of the jigsaw.
Back at Lyndon, the Family Fun Day is in full swing. Paul is making loads of bug boxes for eager youngsters, and Tim and Michelle are being interviewed by a reporter from Radio Rutland. Later Michelle introduces me to a super Osprey puppet called Peter, specially created for the grand Puppet Show. How strange! Only an hour ago I was at Site B writing an Osprey story for children and wondering what to call the hero of the tale. Now I know : ‘This is the story of an Osprey called Peter….’ Watch this space for the first instalment!
I drive home (very carefully in view of that phone call!). I wonder if the Ospreys came back for Bob and Norman…….
An away day . . .
As the season draws on it’s the luck of the draw as to whether a shift will be exciting with plenty of action from the whole family or whether maybe only one or two will be around the nest area, sitting doing nothing. We approached Site B early this Saturday morning with some trepidation, wondering who we would encounter; the sky was clear, there was a slight breeze, a heavy dew under foot and it was chilly. When Michelle had phoned the previous day to confirm our shift, she had told us that 33(11) had disappeared at 11am on Thursday and had not returned until 1pm on Friday. (See Tim’s report). We closed the gate into the hide field and I instantly spotted an Osprey circling over the nest but with the sun behind the nest, it was merely a silhouette. In the distance I could see another Osprey flying South. We cautiously made our way to the hide and still the bird circled over the nest and then disappeared, dropping down behind the wood. We opened up the hide, set up the telescopes, headed up the report sheets and kept watching. We scanned all the regular perches – empty – and discussed the fact that the next two hours may be very quiet. We had glimpsed one Osprey, but as to who it was, was anyone’s guess.
It was decidedly chilly so an early start was made on the hot chocolate and jam doughnuts. Feeling slightly warmer, I began to scan the wood more thoroughly this time and as I looked towards the far righthand end of the wood, discovered an Osprey sitting in the ash trees. This was a favourite perch of one of the juveniles in 2010, I should have remembered. Initially I thought that it was 03(97) but then doubted this assumption – this bird had a slight colouring across the chest. He then flew up and landed in the nest, food begging very loudly – it was of course 33(11) and he had seen his father flying in with a small trout. He had probably been watching us with envy as we enjoyed our breakfast.
He instantly grabbed the fish from 03 and flew to the small oak with it. A few moments later the female appeared from the wood with a large clump of dried grass and landed at 33’s side. He started food begging very loudly and was definitely making the case that he was not going to swap. She left the grass at his side and perched in a small dead tree close by and watched as her offspring hungrily devoured the trout, every last morsel. It was very amusing to watch at one stage; he was holding the fish just below the head and once he had eaten the head, he tried to move his foot further back along the fish. He could not release the fish however and was swinging it first in front of the branch and then behind, wobbling precariously as he did so – he was extremely lucky not to drop it. We did wonder why, with no siblings to hassle him for the fish, he hadn’t remained at the nest to eat it.
Towards the end of the shift Tim phoned to see what had been happening; having spent a worrying Thursday night and Friday morning searching for 33(11), he was relieved that the whole family were all ‘present and correct’. Apparently even 03(97) and the female had behaved in a manner that would suggest that they too were worried about 33, perching up some distance from the nest, the female hanging on to the fish that she had caught. It must have been a long night for them too.
Having finished the fish, 33 flew to a nearby ash and was soon joined by 03, the female remaining in the dead tree close by. 33 had not left the site since his adventure and his parents were also staying close to him. I wonder, with the absence of any siblings, if he had just got carried away playing with the buzzard and found himself miles away – one of the many questions that will forever remain unanswered.
Lindsay and I too found ourselves miles away on Wednesday and Thursday. We joined the steady stream of Rutland Water ‘pilgrims’ visiting Cors Dyfi Osprey Project to take a look at their new family, the adult female of course being our very own Rutland 03(08). For me it was fairly emotional to see her once again; it is always a joy when a bird returns for the first time when last you saw it as a juvenile. We had both watched over the 2008 family and had seen them all at very close hand when they were ringed. Sadly 01(08) had disappeared ten days after fledging (one of the reasons why everyone was so worried when 33(11) went AWOL on Wednesday).
It was extremely interesting to see another Wildlife Trust project and the enthusiasm and dedication at Cors Dyfi was amazing – Emyr Evans has a wonderful team supporting him. I mentioned earlier ‘luck of the draw’ – we were so lucky to just catch the tail end of the first juvenile fledging. He is named Einion, (Dulas and Leri being his siblings, male and female respectively). They are named after rivers. It was an exceptionally hot day so we made our way to the hide where it was somewhat cooler, with a breeze blowing through. We watched him make several more flights, only once overshooting when he landed on Leri’s back in the nest. Volunteers in the hide and in the centre, Maria, Carol, Tim and John voiced their acknowledgement of Rutland Osprey Project’s contribution to this happy event.
We spent a very pleasant evening at The Black Lion in Derwenlas with Emyr, Janine, his partner and Officer at the Project, Alwyn, also a Project Officer and Gwen, a volunteer. They are having an extremely exciting season with the first breeding pair of Ospreys in the Dyfi valley for over 400 years. And for the second time this season, I was fortunate enough to see the first juvenile fledge from a nest, an auspicious one at that; a first in the Dyfi Valley since the 17th century.
I’m sure there will be many ‘away days’ in future years between Rutland and Montgomeryshire – annual pilgrimages.
33 goes on an adventure – and has us all worried
Having been on the wing for more than two weeks, this year’s chicks – or to be more accurate, juveniles – are now getting more and more adventurous. It is great to see them growing in confidence. On Thursday morning this week myself, Michelle and the group we were leading on an early morning guided walk, enjoyed fantastic views of 22(11) repeatedly splashing into the water in Manton Bay – not really full-blown fishing attempts, more playful practising. Whatever the case, it was great to watch. The fact that the Manton Bay nest is surrounded by water is certainly an advantage for the juveniles – the youngsters at the other nests all have to fly some distance to get to the nearest water. There is no doubt that the Manton Bay nest is a des-res for the local Ospreys!
Talking of flying some distance from the nest, we had a worrying 24 hours on Thursday and into Friday. By the middle of the week, 33(11) was starting to venture away from the Site B nest for the first time. Like all young Ospreys this is an important time for 33 – these exploratory flights will be helping him to learn about his home-range – all valuable information for when, we hope, he returns in two years’ time. Despite the fact that he has only been on the wing for a couple of weeks he is already remarkably skilful in the air – often tussling with the young buzzards which have recently fledged from a neighbouring nest. After one such tussle on Thursday morning 33 and one of the buzzards began circling together over the nest. With apparently no effort they quickly gained height and drifted off to the north. And that was the last we saw of the young male.
By 8pm 33 still hadn’t returned and I drove to Site B to join up with volunteer Mick Lewin who was on duty at the nest. We were worried. Yes, 33 was a strong flier, but it was very unusual for him to be away this long. At this stage juvenile Ospreys are still very much dependent on their father for food and usually return to the nest as soon as hunger gets the better of them. So where was 33? 03 returned to the nest with a trout at about 9pm, but still there was no sign of the young male. By dark we were really worried. We have lost young birds at Site B at about this time in the season before and it looked like it had happened again.
Next morning I joined Dennis and Sally on the 6-8am shift and still there was no sign of 33. At 8 o’clock the female arrived back at the nest with a large trout – the first fish we have seen her bring back to the nest this year – but 33 remained AWOL. Rather than eating the fish at the nest, she flew north with it. It appeared that she was looking for 33. I followed in the vehicle, scouring the farmland to the north of Site B for any signs. But there was nothing.
Sadly it seemed that we probably wouldn’t see 33 again. I asked Clive who had taken over from Dennis and Sally to ring me if the young male turned up, but I wasn’t holding out much hope.
By lunchtime he still wasn’t back, but at 1 o’clock my phone rang. It was Sue at Site B. “A juvenile has just landed back on the nest!”. Amazingly, after 26 hours away, 33 was back. What a relief! He was clearly very hungry and food-begged incessantly until 03 delivered a fish to the nest. 33 snatched it from him and took it to a nearby oak tree to eat it. He remained there until dark – wherever he had been he was evidently very tired!
We will never know exactly where 33 went, but to be absent for more than a day suggests that it was more than just a short flight to the reservoir. He was obviously exploring much further a field. Whatever the case, it was great to see him back!
Unusual Behaviour at Site B ~ Numbers 1,2 and 3
Tuesday July 26th : Morning 8.00- 12.00 : Week 19 : Cloudy, cold, 13 degrees C.
Barrie and I arrive at the watch point to find Hannah there. She’s just had a close encounter with a fox! We chat for a while before she leaves for a day at Chatsworth. She reports it’s ‘All quiet on the Osprey Front’.
But not for long! The splendid juvenile 33(11) starts calling for food, until his father 03 can stand it no longer and retreats, first to a more distant perch, and then away over our heads, away towards the reservoir. Breakfast is on the way, just be patient! 33 keeps up the noise, even pursuing his mother when she flies off to collect a few twigs and leaves for the nest. He watches in disgust as she drops her bundle in the nest, as if to say : ‘What’s this? I can’t eat that!’ Then something strange happens (‘Unusual Behaviour No. 1′) ~ the juvenile flies over towards us, swoops down low over the field and scoops up in his talons a clump of dried grass, which he delivers to the nest! He repeats this behaviour again just a minute or two later. Is he copying his mother’s actions? Or in the absence of water here, practising skimming and trailing his feet as we have seen the Manton Bay juveniles do? We are still discussing this behaviour when we suddenly realise we have an intruding Osprey in front of us! All three (our female, our juvenile, and the intruder) twist and turn in the air over the wood for a minute or two, before the intruder heads off south. We could not get a ring colour on the intruder, but he had the general look of a male, and we did notice that he had a slight ‘nick’ in his left wing, where one of the feathers had either broken off or was missing. That might help with identification later. Once again, we are in discussion over these events when voices crackle over the radio. It’s John, our colleague on watch in Manton Bay, and he is describing the arrival of an intruding Osprey there too, just minutes after ours and in exactly the same direction as ours was last heading! Could it be the same one? Possibly the nick in the wing will be a helpful identification factor.
Any such musings are interrupted once again by the arrival of 03(97) with the most delicious-looking large rainbow trout, its multi-coloured flanks glinting in the light as he flies around the nest with it before alighting on the perch below. The trout is very much alive and wriggling. The juvenile, who had disappeared following the intrusion, is suddenly back on the nest and loudly demanding that the fish be delivered to him. 03 obliges after a few minutes of feeding, by which time the fish, though still largely intact, has ceased its struggles. Then (and this is ‘Unusual Behaviour No. 2′ of the morning) 03 starts to feed the juvenile with small pieces of fish delicately torn off ~ even though this bird is fully fledged and perfectly capable of feeding itself! Now we know some male Ospreys do occasionally directly feed their young, but this session lasts almost half an hour, and 03 takes hardly any himself! Meanwhile, the female stands nearby on the nest, not taking part, but looking on as if to say ‘Should I be doing that?’ Eventually, she takes interest in the fish and we watch as all three of them start tugging and pulling at it in something approaching a feeding frenzy. 03 soon tires of this, and takes the fish (now about half its original size) to a favourite position on a branch at the top of a small oak tree. We have terrific views through our telescopes. All is quiet for a while, but then 33 decides he’s hungry again and flies to join his father on the oak tree. 03 is not ready to share at this point, so the juvenile assumes a hunched, submissive pose and just sits on the branch next to his father. He gradually relaxes and seems to ‘drop off’ for a while ~ his head droops and we can see the ‘nictating membrane’ flicking over his eye. Then he’s alert again, shuffling closer to his parent, who is still feeding on the fish. At last the older bird relents…and (‘Unusual Behaviour No. 3′) starts to feed his offspring again, on the branch at the top of a tree, well away from the nest! Neither of us has witnessed a juvenile being fed in this manner before, away from the nest.
So much to talk about! We are still deep in discussion when our relief team Bob and Norman arrive. In response to our list of Unusual Behaviours, Norman reminds us that, way back in the translocation days (1996 – 2001), eight or nine week old young Ospreys recently released from their hacking pens on Lax Hill were sometimes observed swooping low over the fields and picking up dried grasses from the ground, just as we saw 33 (11) do today. So not unknown then…..but still interesting and unusual.
As we walk back, we notice our juvenile has moved to a very distant perch, where he sits, well fed and content…..for a while anyway. We close the gate behind us and take one last look : Female on nest, 03 still with fish on oak tree, 33 on distant perch. ‘All quiet on the Osprey Front’……….
A couple of intruders . . . who are not entirely unwelcome
Site B, Saturday morning at 6 am – I can’t think of a better way to start a weekend than an early morning shift at Site B; a couple of hours of absolute peace and quiet and then return home with the whole weekend ahead. In July, with the juveniles about to or already fledged, it’s exciting to observe their antics and the family’s behaviour.
The weather forecast was not that good but when I woke up this morning at 5am it was unbelievably balmy – at 5am ! I have been caught out before though, so waterproofs were de rigeur. It was breezy, very overcast but very warm as I walked down to the hide and thankfully the bullocks were some distance away, as once again I had forgotten my stick. I closed the final gate and looked towards the nest and there were the family of three; 03 so prominent with his clean breast, on the nest perch, female on the nest and 33(11) on the lower nest perch. It is always a huge relief to arrive and see the whole family – once the juveniles have fledged they can land in the oddest of places which results in a worrying ‘hunt the juvenile’. They obviously haven’t read the script yet – small oak, ash behind the small oak, hidden perch, pruned ash, righthand ash, etc., their parents stick to the map, so why can’t they? But then, why should they, they will not return to this nest again, or will they?
I opened up the hide and set up the telescopes, switched on the radio and telephone and settled down for the shift. I intended to radio Waderscrape Hide – Roger, a fellow volunteer, whom I’d met on the Osprey Cruise this week, was on duty there, 6am – 9am. We had agreed to let one another know what was happening on our shifts. At 6.35 the female made a short flight and as if prompted by this, 33(11) also circled briefly and returned to the perch. He then hopped up to the top perch and after fidgeting around, moved a little closer to 03. Ten minutes later he flew off again, out of sight a couple of times but then returning to the lower perch.
07.05 Having made a few notes, I looked up – yes, I think you all know what I am about to say – 03 had disappeared – old habits die hard. I automatically assumed that he had set off to catch breakfast. Seven minutes later, as I stood outside the hide, an Osprey came into view, flying towards the nest and at first I assumed that it was 03. Not so, as 03 followed after and landed on the nest with the female, who was mantling feverishly. 33 remained on the lower perch. This intruder circled immediately over the nest for four minutes. There was much alarm calling and mantling but both 03 and the female remained on the nest. The intruder then flew off in a NE direction.
Several minutes later, at 07.20 the intruder reappeared and this time circled over the nest for fifteen minutes – an incredible amount of time for him to stay and not be attacked by one of the parent birds. He was circling, flying very low over the nest and then rising to dangle his feet in display manner. I had time to take a telescope outside and could see that this Osprey was not 09(98), as I had expected, as he had no satellite aerial. The behaviour of the parents was not what I have witnessed in previous years at various nests when intruders have come to call; it seemed most unusual to me that 03 was not up in the air and escorting this bird off his territory. Both parents stayed on the nest alarm calling furiously and mantling. In the whole time that this was going on, poor 33(11) was on the lower perch, head bowed, it was almost as if he was trying to make himself invisible as he would have done had he been in the nest – I could almost imagine him closing his eyes and saying to himself ‘Please go away, you’re frightening me!’
The intruder eventually flew south and at 07.40 03 and the female flew up, circling over the nest, checking that the juvenile was still there. 03 returned to the nest and the female flew south. At 07.46 the female returned and circled over the nest and landed and four minutes later the intruder was back, once again circling low over the nest. The parents still remained on the nest but this time their alarm calling and mantling was heightened. At one stage the intruder came very close to the hide and it was at this stage that I could see that he too had an exceptionally clean breast. He circled around for another five minutes and eventually gave up, flying off low in a NE direction.
Some time after 7.30 Tim called and when I explained what had been happening and described the clean-breasted intruder, he told me that 01(09) had been seen the day before by Field Officer, John Wright. 01(09) returned to Rutland Water on the 19th/20th May but has rarely been seen since. However, if any of you are following the progress of Roy Dennis’ juvenile, Rothiemurchus, another 2009 juvenile to return, you will know that these youngsters are proving to us that they travel far and wide when they return to the UK. 01(09) was one of two fledglings from Site B and so this morning he had merely been calling in at home – sadly he wasn’t entirely welcome but he had not been treated as aggressively as a normal intruder. I wonder where his travels have taken him in the last couple of months.
The second intruder was given a warm welcome – I was accompanied on this shift by my husband - he thought that we were in for a quiet morning but we were both delighted to have witnessed the excitement of this intrusion; we barely had time for the bacon sandwiches and coffee. Nor too had I time to radio Roger, although by all accounts he was busy himself – 32 took to the air on his shift.
Reflections on Site B
Volunteer Ken puts pen to paper after reminiscing about his many visits to Site B over the years…
Tuesday July 12th: 8.00am: Site B: I’ve just arrived at the watch-point after the walk down through the fields and along the hedges. It’s colder today, but dry at least ~ it’s Week 17 of the monitoring season here, and I’ve yet to experience a really wet shift. Now that I’ve written that, no doubt it will pour down in the weeks ahead. My change-over with the early-morning team is swift and efficient as always ~ almost as good as 03 and his mate during incubation.
I settle down. Temperature, wind direction, visibility all recorded. Log begins ‘Female at nest with chick, male on perch nearby.’ All is calm. Have you ever thought about a particular place that you know: ‘This is the most perfect spot in the whole world’? Well, for me, this is it ~ sitting in a canvas chair under an old oak tree, note-book on knee, coffee cup on a flat stone nearby, looking across towards another oak tree, at the top of which is the great structure originally created by 03(97) over ten years ago.
Yes, it was a decade ago, almost to the day, when members of the pioneering Rutland Water Osprey Project must have been in a celebratory mood. Here at Site B, the first English-born Osprey for 150 years had just been ringed, weighed and measured! It was a red ring with white lettering ~ 13(01) ~ and the chick (thought to be a female) had weighed in at a healthy 1500 grams. The records show that some familiar faces were present at this momentous event ~ among them a young Project Assistant called Tim Mackrill! Both Tim and the chick fledged successfully ~ one to become the Project Officer and the other to begin her long and solitary migration on 30th August. Unique among Rutland Ospreys, 13(01) was given a name, chosen by young viewers of the BBC’s Newsround programme. She was called, appropriately, Aqua. Sadly, she never returned, but she was certainly the start of something magnificent ~ her Father 03(97) is still here, sitting proudly in front of me as I write this and guarding the latest of his 24 chicks, blue-ringed 33(11). I feel a sudden strange affinity with the birds and their protectors from those early days, and almost out loud thank them for their faith, courage and determination.
It’s still quiet. The log shows that the chick fed well just after 6.00am this morning, so there is no urgency to find more fish at the moment. Time for more reflection. I was first brought here six years ago now, in August 2005, for an evening watch. The excitement mounted during the walk, and then suddenly we were here ~ with the iconic 03(97) and his long-term mate, the greatly missed 05(00), watching anxiously as their three chicks flew around. I vividly recall that evening ~ gazing around in rapt wonder as FIVE Ospreys wheeled above me, eagerly soaking up Osprey knowledge so expertly passed on by my companion, learning the ‘shift etiquette’ ~ never arrive too early for your shift, and never linger for too long once your shift is over ~ then straining to see the yellow rings on the juveniles and beaming with pride when at last I could read them through the ‘scope ~ 30, 31 and 32! Two of them returned in subsequent years, and one ~ the female 30(05) ~ is still in Rutland as I write this. We had to leave at 8.00pm, but I would willingly have stayed all night! I’ve been here hundreds of times since then. No two watches are the same, as my note-books, diaries and memories testify…..Just flicking back through the pages for May, June and July this year highlights a few pictures in my mind….
10th May: Jays, Cuckoos and Whitethroats everywhere. Ospreys change over incubation duties very regularly, with the female always doing twice as much as the male. Small green caterpillars are descending on silken threads from the oak tree above me. Each time one reaches the ground, a female Blackcap hops out and grabs it I decide to try and reach the next one before the bird does, but I’m too slow and the bird wins every time. Later I find several caterpillars drowned in my coffee cup. I toss them out, but the Blackcap doesn’t come for them. I’ll try de-caff for her next week. I realise that the Cuckoo calling incessantly above me always finishes on ‘cuck’ and not ‘oo’. Is this a generally known fact, or have I just discovered an astounding new facet of Cuckoo behaviour? Must test it out on other Cuckoos.
24th May: I relieve Tom and Ann, just back from their daughter’s wedding in America. It was an outdoor service, and during the ceremony Tom added a new bird to his life-list ~ a Townsend’s Solitaire! Brilliant name, brilliant bird! I look it up in my American field-guide later! I hear on the radio that hatching is imminent at Manton Bay. The excitement crackles over the airwaves as I sit here at my remote outpost. This pair still have a few days to go.
31st May: Won’t be long now. It’s been a long incubation, but they’ve never been alone, not even for five minutes. Six Fallow Deer go leaping through the crop field. During night duty I had them down as SAS men, but they’re clearer today in the bright sunshine. Off they go, pronking like South African Impala. Maybe there’s a cheetah after them. Not so fanciful ~ the Rutland Panther was reported near Uppingham earlier in the month! A brief hail-storm covers everything in white ice-balls for a few minutes, but they soon melt. That must have tested our Ospreys out there. A sudden roar of engines and an ancient Dakota aircraft clatters over the wood barely above tree-top height. It still has its D-Day livery painted on the fuselage. Thousands of pigeons, crows, jackdaws and other birds leave the wood in blind panic in a whirl of wings and a chorus of cries and calls. Just two birds remain unmoved: 03 on his perch on the small oak, and his female on the nest. Devotion to duty indeed. The Dakota pilots of old would be proud.
14th June: On the walk to the watch-point, 03 suddenly appears over me carrying a massive branch which is interfering with his flying. If he drops it, I’ll retrieve it and add it to the artificial nest outside the Visitor Centre at Lyndon….. But he doesn’t, and drops it across his own nest….The crop-field, once a brilliant yellow, then green, is now gashed and dappled with patches of red poppies. First good view of chick in nest.
21st June: The ‘Day of the Swifts’ ~ I’ve never seen so many in one place. Maybe there’s been a hatching of insects, which is providing rich pickings for them this morning. Where can they be going? Not leaving already surely? I decide to follow one for as long as I can, to see if it’s going anywhere in its dashings and dartings. It is going gradually south. I do the same with another, and another, and another. They’re all going gradually south, constantly replaced by hordes of others coming in circuitous fashion from the north. At one point 03 rises with them, towering ever higher until he is just a dot. He doesn’t drift south with them, but east, until lost in the distance. Happy fishing. Marsh Tits, Wrens and Whitethroats are all around me today, busily searching, churring, living. In a St Francis of Assisi moment, I have them all at my feet at once, joined by a Robin, Dunnock and a Chaffinch. I decide not to talk to them as he did ~ anyway, it’s those little caterpillars they’re all after, rather than any homily from me. 03 is suddenly back with a fish, and his mate is still feeding the chick as I leave.
5th July: 03 is absent as I arrive, but before too long I see him approaching from the east. A rakish Hobby engages briefly with him, and an enthralling aerial entanglement ensues, joined by the female, who cannot resist a tumble and a chase. The juvenile watches intently from the nest. The Hobby soon tires of this game, and zooms away at great speed, leaving the Ospreys to settle again. The Swifts are once again plentiful ~ last week’s contingent are probably well on their way to Southern Europe by now. I heard today that a Cuckoo fitted with a satellite transmitter in East Anglia in May is already back in Africa! No doubt the Swifts will be there too before long……………
‘And earthbound men, whom you so little heed,
Shall lift with joy their winter-weary gaze
To welcome your return with summer days’ *
At 9.30 precisely the female embarks on a sudden joyous, exuberant flight, culminating in two complete sideways flip-overs! I’ve only ever witnessed this once before, by the regal matriarch 05(00) several years ago. I remember thinking then that maybe this was some sort of display to an unseen rival, or perhaps a demonstration of the thrill and freedom of flight to the young and still flightless juvenile in the nest below? Or was it just a release of energy and fun as she realised that her task was almost done, and the long confinement at the nest almost over? Who knows? Great to watch whatever the cause. The chick responds with vigorous wing-flapping, up to 20 consecutive flaps at a time. Looking good for a launch in a few days.
And so back to today, 12th July: The chick is jumping around the nest, from side to side, and flapping vigorously. Today or tomorrow? It can’t be long now before the first flight. 03 and his mate seem much more intolerant of Buzzards and Red Kites today, and chase these inoffensive neighbours away every few minutes. I realise quite suddenly that the hordes of Swifts have gone. There are a few scattered ones, but nothing like the dense clouds I saw last week. Where are the ones I tracked carefully last week to determine their direction? I wonder.
‘…..some strange signal that shall bid you fly,
On your far pilgrimage, by ways unknown…’ *
Two days later, the chick flew, thus becoming 03(97)’s 24th successfully fledged chick from the Site B nest. We wish 33(11) well and hope to see him back in 2013!
*Extracts from the poem ‘To Swifts on Migration’ in ‘Verses and Tales’ by Violet Boyd (1954)
